


His Touch

by lasairfhiona



Series: comment_fic [89]
Category: The Avengers (2012)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-07
Updated: 2012-11-07
Packaged: 2017-11-18 03:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/556554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasairfhiona/pseuds/lasairfhiona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>sharpiesgal prompted for the <i>Senses</i> theme: Avengers, Bruce/Clint, Bruce loved to be touched.</p><p>two version one from each POV</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Touch

**Version 1:**  
The first time it happened, he was lying with his head in Bruce's lap, lazily drawing circles on Bruce's leg as they watched the movie and he felt Bruce practically purr. After that he tested a theory and reversed their positions for another night of watching movies on the sofa so he could simply rest his hand on Bruce's chest and periodically dip his fingers between the buttons on his shirt to tangle in the dark hair. He could feel Bruce's contented sigh and knew his theory was right. Bruce loved to be touched. Somehow it didn't surprise him. Bruce had isolated himself from people for so long. And for him, it was even more of a gift, because he was a tactile person.

 **Version 2:**  
After so long denying himself contact he almost craved being touched.

Correction, it wasn't just anyone's touch he wanted. It was Clint's touch.

He realized it when they were all gathered to watch a movie together and Clint started to absently rub his foot. The Archer had been embarrassed when he realized what he'd been doing until he dropped both his feet in Clint's lap.

After that, it became natural for them to sit together. Sometimes he rested his feet in Clint's lap and sometimes he laid his head there. Other times he leaned his head on Clint's shoulder. No matter how they sat together, the result was always the same. Clint's hands on him, rubbing the arch of his feet, combing his fingers through his hair or their hands twined in their laps. 

Clint's touch calmed him, made him feel not so alone, loved. And everyone once in a while he could feel a contented rumble, almost like a purring cat, from 'the other guy'.


End file.
